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Ares
Ares was a part of the Twilight's Hammer Cultists as a young child and raised by a Night Elf Captain until the age of 13. After training with the Troll Vi'ji, Ares has set off to join the Horde and conquer the demons of his past. His journal can be found herehttps://grobb.org/c/ares. History The Twilight’s Hammer Cultists (Year 10) The skin on Cho’gall’s chest peeled back where he had been sliced open by the sons of Blackhand, Rend and Maim. The gash revealed muscle and blood as the two heads of the ogre argued with one another about a plan of escape. Memories from when he was that young are hard to come by, but the image of the thing responsible for corrupting his parents would forever stain his mind. That would be the only detail of Cho’gall Ares could remember, but it was the proof he needed. Ares was a child born into the Twilight’s Hammer Clan. His parents were manipulated by Cho’gall, the clan’s chieftain. They delved into the void energies that would eventually lead to their complete subjugation to Cho’gall’s will. Ares had been forced to attend sacrifices and ceremonies the cult held to appease the dark entities that guided them. He had been groomed for training with void magic but had been too young to start. Their prophecies had already been tattooed across his body. When Cho’gall and the Twilight Hammer cultists followed Gul’dan to the Tomb of Sargeras. The sons of Blackhand attacked Cho’gall and the cult, forcing their retreat to Kalimdor. Lord Kelris was commanded to take a small group of cultists into Ashenvale and follow the whispers that had been calling to the cultists and Cho’gall. Meanwhile, Cho’gall would head south towards Tanaris. The cultists found themselves on Zoram Stand at the ruins of a partially submerged temple that once served Elune. The passageway had collapsed but the whispers unmistakably came from within. As the cultists attempted to clear the path, a group of Night Elf rangers attacked. Ares was pushed away and told to stay hidden by his mother. Defiantly, the young Ares started to push forward when his mother’s succubus appeared in front of him. The succubus’ slender fingers ushered his eyes to gaze into hers. Before he could think to look away, everything except the face of the succubus faded. Her pale blue eyes entranced him in a way he had never felt before nor could he understand in that moment. Time seemed to go on forever as he fell in love. After what felt like an eternity, he was snapped back into the world around him. Chaos was everywhere, succubus nowhere in sight, the cart he had traveled in since arriving on Kalimdor laid scattered in pieces. On the ground partially covered in debris, his mother was dead under a violet and now dark red cloak. A wound from a slash of a sword could be seen across her back. Ares looked around for his father, but he was nowhere to be found. The passageway the cultists had been clearing now had enough space for someone to pass through. Remembering the whispers and terrible dreams, seeing his mother’s bloody corpse beside him, being abandoned by the cultists and his father. Ares had no intention of following them into that temple. Anger filled the young Ares. Angry at the cultists. At the Night Elves. At Cho’gall causing all of this. Ares vowed to never follow their path. Never allow the corruption of magic to control him. “Dorei, Dorei” yelled out a ranger. A Night Elf ranger spotted Ares. Looking around, Ares could not see where the noise had come from. The Night Elf Captain Cydaan Moonshade stepped out from the nearby foliage. Ares was astonished that the elf was seemingly able to do this without displacing a single leaf. The captain smirked “Iszera duna bantallas” as he called out behind him. He had no weapon drawn and did not take the small Orc to be a threat. Ares, filled with anger, lunged towards Cydaan. Caught off guard by the sudden threat, Cydaan barely dodged out of the way before the young orc could land a wild swing. The captain let loose a surprised “Ah ha!” as he took a step back and reevaluated Ares. He was intrigued by the Orc and not just because he had never seen one in person. That being apart from the few cultists he had slain moments ago. Cydaan would go on to keep Ares in Maestra’s Post outside of Astranaar. Over the next few years they insisted that Ares was a guest in the tower, but he always knew he would not be allowed to leave, even if he did have somewhere to go. During his time at the post Ares did not grow any fonder of the Night Elves. The elves had given him a warm place to stay when he had nowhere else to go. Yet, in the back of his mind he knew they were the ones that cut down his mother. An unforgivable act. Cydaan had been forbidden to teach Ares their language of Darnassian but that wouldn’t stop him from teaching Ares other things. How to live as part of the forest. How to scout through the trees. How catch, clean, and cook fish. The captain also tried teaching discipline, but Ares proved too ornery for that. Ares was still never at home in Maestra’s Post. When the third war began, Cydaan no longer had time to teach Ares and as the days stretched Ares grew restless. That was when Ares overheard a conversation that was not intended to be overheard, especially by him. Orcs had invaded Ashenvale and were cutting down the trees. Orcs. In Ashenvale. Ares was beside himself. Under the cover of darkness, Ares would leave the Night Elves set out to find these Orcs. For the Horde (Year 21) Considered an orphan and no one believing where he had been living for the last few years, Ares earned the reputation in Splintertree Post as being quite peculiar. Most Orcs his age despised chores. Feeding the boars, collecting the various missing tools Stone Guard Drakaro seemed to misplace daily. Ares was always the first one to complete his chores and as soon as he completed the last one, he would grab his axe and leathers and head for Master Vi’ji’s hut in the secluded hills towards the boarder of the Barrens and Ashenvale. Master Vi’ji was an expert weaponsmith and the occasional campfire story would be told about how he was one of the first Trolls to join the new Horde. Vi’ji had been sent to keep a quiet eye on Grommash Hellscream’s developments in Ashenvale. The troll was typically known to not enjoy the company of others and was not shy to say so if someone was bothering him. Splintertree Post is where Vi’ji would first see Ares. As customary, a few of the orc children would regularly test each other in the streets as a sort of feat of strength. These so-called tests would occur whenever the opportunity arose, and the adults weren’t paying them any attention. A group would typically surprise attack whomever the unlucky target was that evening, taking turns swinging with brooms, throwing rocks, kicking, or finding whatever other makeshift weapons they could quickly dispose of if an adult came near. This day the group had Ares in their cross hairs. He had noticed their following of him, two kids splitting off around a building to surround him. He had seen this before. Acting as if he had not taken notice, Ares put down the crates he had been carrying. A smile streaked across his face as he subtly reached for the rake close to him. What happened next is what made Vi’ji take notice. In a whirlwind of blood, screams, and dirt, the children attacked Ares. Ares had positioned himself, so his back was towards a wall, not allowing the other children to flank him. As Olka attacked first, Ares kicked him back into Cald and Gohlekk who were pursuing quickly behind. He turned his rake sideways and charged towards the children, knocking all three to the ground and pinning them with the rake. At that moment Shajun, a small troll girl with remarkably great aim hurled a rock from across the street. Thunk! The rock hit Ares square in the top of the head. Ares paused for a second and looked up to see Shajun. Ares eye’s, already a piercing red, seemed to explode with fire and furor. He took the rake, pointy end forward, and flung himself towards Shajun who had quickly found herself in the way a considerable amount of harm. It was at that moment, Master Vi’ji stuck out his axe, quickly parrying Ares’ attack. Ares had always spent more combat training than the other children. There was an unquenchable rage that filled him and often when the children would end their training for the day, Ares would keep practicing by himself. When Vi’ji first parried the attack, Ares was caught off guard. Now Master Vi’ji had his full attention. The other children quickly backed off, as they knew that a child attacking an adult had severe consequences. Ares paid no mind. He didn’t know who Vi’ji was, that he was a master weaponsmith, or even that a few of the other adults in the camp had heard the commotion and were now watching. There, the young Orc holding a rake, made attack after attack against the veteran troll. Vi’ji easily dodged the attack and Ares quickly pressed the attack again. Faster swings, more power, less control. Ares’ rage overwhelmed him like never before. Swing. Sidestep. Swing. Block. Swing. Parry. Nothing could get through. Eventually, old Brugg Bonelash called a stop to the ordeal. Ares, caught up in the frenzy, quickly realized the trouble that laid before him. An act like this could push back his training for weeks if not longer. Master Vi’ji spoke to Brugg privately. Since Ares had attacked Vi’ji, Vi’ji held the right to pick his punishment. He decided, that for the foreseeable future, Ares would have to go to his hut after his normal chores and work for him the rest of the day. While most thought that Ares would spend hours completing additional chores, Vi’ji had other plans. Category:Orc Category:Warrior Category:Horde Category:The Harbingers